


Victory Day

by gingersoldier



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: (also i welcome any criticism i want to get better at this!), ALL THE FLUFF, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersoldier/pseuds/gingersoldier
Summary: Newt and Hermann address some things they discovered in the drift.





	Victory Day

**Author's Note:**

> (Edit: At the end, there was originally a brief but very angsty timejump that I ended up editing out after posting, because it was a bit pointless and out of place in a fluffy, lighthearted one-shot. Just an FYI, I may still be making minor edits while this fic is up.)

The rest of the Shatterdome is still celebrating, but Newt makes his way back to his quarters, shuffling deliberately down the long corridor. It’s right about now that in the absence of adrenaline, the exhaustion of the past few days – physical, emotional, and mental – are finally taking effect. (He had drifted with a kaiju brain, flown to Hong Kong for a chat with a black market mob boss, been chased by a kaiju, chased by that kaiju’s baby, _ripped his favorite goddamn jacket_ , drifted with Hermann and the second kaiju, and hauled ass back to the Shatterdome with Herms to pass on the knowledge from, yup, drifting with all the damn kaiju. It has been an eventful 24 hours.)

His footsteps echo sharply down the metal hallway, but are suddenly interrupted by the sound of running from behind him, and he turns around to see Tendo sprinting in his direction with a grin on his face.

“Hey, you ditching too?” Newt chuckles.

“Um, hell no?” Tendo passes Newt and whirls round to face him, jogging backwards and grinning even wider. “I’m getting the champagne!”

Tendo famously kept a minifridge tucked in the corner of the mess hall, stocked with a single bottle of champagne that has “DO NOT OPEN TIL VICTORY DAY” scrawled across the label in sharpie. Pentecost let it stay because it boosted morale, but still, it was a running gallows-joke among the more pessimistic that that bottle would outlive the human race – a joke that Tendo also famously flipped off with a smile.

“Save some for me, man!” he shouts to Tendo, who’s about to round the corner.

“Yeah, I’ll save some for both of you!” He winks and disappears down the hall. 

Both of you?

“Newton.”

Newt stops in his tracks at the sound of Hermann’s voice a few yards behind him. He turns slowly.

“Hey Herms.”

For once, Hermann doesn’t protest at the nickname. “Newton, I wanted to…” Hesitation in his voice, he trails off with a sigh.

“Everything alright?” Newt asks. Hermann is usually so direct and blunt, and the way he’s carrying himself and stuttering is unsettling. He stands there, awkward as ever, but somehow he’s slightly less rigid and clearly gathering courage. Heat begins to rise in Newt’s cheeks, and he notices for the first time that Hermann’s are beet-red.

“No. Well, yes. Well…” he pauses, thinking. “That’s a complicated question. I wanted- I needed to-… I… felt it would be appropriate to have a conversation about what exactly happened during the drift, now that preventing extinction isn't the most urgent item on the agenda.”

Newt freezes.

Right.

There’s that too.

“I never fully comprehended just how much would be laid bare to each other, and to be quite honest, it’s...” Hermann is staring at the ceiling, nervously tapping the hands stacked on top of his cane. “I… Well, I could say I might have addressed certain things sooner.”

That little creature made of self-doubt and sabotage that sits in the back of Newt’s head wakes with a jolt and starts to crack its knuckles. “Like… what kind of things, dude?”

Hermann doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Newton, I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t let this situation embarrass me any more than it already is. You know full well what I’m talking about.” He takes a few steps closer, still a couple arm’s lengths away.

Newt does know. His heart starts to race, and he sighs.

“Oh… god. Yeah. Did you know before?” Newt asks, running a hand through his still-damp hair and tugging slightly in a self-soothing gesture.

“No, I didn’t realize that _you_ thought of me like that,” Hermann replies. “I think I knew that _I_ did.” He pauses, finally meeting Newt’s eyes. “Did you know…?”

Newt squints and cocks his head with an uncertain _eehh?_ sound. “There were, uh, points when I suspected, but I figured it was wishful thinking and I was just, y’know. Projecting.”

Herman breaks eye contact, staring over Newt’s shoulder and down the hall as he ever-so-slowly takes another couple steps closer, the distance between them now measuring only a few feet. 

His brown eyes dart in every direction but Newt’s, and the lines of his face shift as he clenches his jaw and _wow_ , are Newt’s ears turning red? They feel hot, they – they’re definitely turning red. Hermann takes a deep breath.

“When you say ‘wishful thinking,’” he asks hesitantly, lowering his voice as if to throw off an imagined eavesdropper. “What exactly do you mean?”

Newt moves his head into Hermann’s sightline, and Hermann meets his gaze again. He waits a moment, watching as Hermann gets even redder with the eye contact.  
His face relaxes ever so slightly, his gaze softer.

 _Holy shit, this is happening, this is actually happening_ , Newt thinks to himself.

“I think you might know what I mean.”

“I’m fairly certain I want to be sure.”

“Oh, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Why is _right now_ the one time you decide you might be wrong?” Newt smirks.

Hermann narrows his eyes and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. During their back-and-forth, they had each edged closer and closer, and now their faces are no more than 6 inches apart. They stand there for a brief moment, eyes wide, realizing where they are. 

Hermann looks up and glances over his shoulder, a telltale _is-anyone-watching_ move.

_Oh – oh shit, this is it. This is it._

Newt’s hand is on Hermann’s shoulder. Hermann’s attention snaps back to Newt and he freezes, his heartbeat audible. 

Newt leans in.

Their lips meet and the whole world stops. 

There is no kaiju war, there is no victory, there are no equations or hypotheses or experiments. There is no Shatterdome.  
There is just this hallway, and them.

Hermann tenses up at first, but immediately relaxes, eyelids fluttering closed and his arm resting naturally on Newt’s waist. Newt runs his fingers through Hermann’s hair, gently twirling what length he can find and trailing his other hand down Hermann’s back. When he feels Hermann tense up again, he pulls away to make sure that was okay, but Hermann kisses him again, cocooning him in a hug that sets them both off-balance. Newt stumbles backward to try keep them upright, and in doing so, finds himself backed up against the wall.

“Uh…”

They both pause for a moment, once again realizing their position. Newt raises an eyebrow from behind his fogged glasses.

He smiles.

Hermann smiles back.

Brow lowered mischievously, Hermann presses his body against Newt’s, a hand on his shoulder, holding him playfully to the wall, and they kiss once more. Newt grasps at Hermann’s lapels, pulling him even closer. Hermann’s hand drifts to Newt’s chest, under the torn leather jacket, his kisses trailing down to his jawline then his neck. Newt lets out a soft, involuntary moan.

“Damn, took you two long enough.”

They both let loose a blood-curdling scream, and Hermann jerks away so suddenly that Newt has to pull him back up by the lapel he still hasn’t let go of.

_“Jesus Christ!”_

_“Tendo, what the hell?!”_

Tendo just keeps on walking past them, a comically large bottle of champagne tucked under his arm and a grin on his face. “Hey, don’t let me interrupt! You guys know where quarters are.” He shakes his head and chuckles to himself. "Those interns owe me a twenty."

Hermann huffs and straightens his jacket, mumbling curses under his breath and giving the hairiest of eyeballs to Tendo, who has by now disappeared around the corner to the command center.

Hermann straightens up and looks back at Newt, who meets his gaze and, after a moment’s hesitation, starts to laugh. That’s the only thing he can do, really. Newt laughs and laughs, and Hermann cracks a smile, which for him, in this instance, is the equivalent of an absolute fit.

They look at each other. 

One more kiss, one more embrace, and the two make their way to the command center to rejoin the others for a victory toast.


End file.
